Astral Dreams
by Haley J. The Bat
Summary: Post-Requiem. Is Scully dreaming, or is she communicating with Mulder? Angsty.


Astral Dreams

By: Haley J. The Bat

Pairing(s): Scully/Mulder

  
Summary: Post-Requiem. Is Scully dreaming, or is she communicating with Mulder? Angsty.

* * * * *

Dana Scully didn't look it, but she was an emotional mess. She had never been an emotional mess before in her life.

Scully stepped in front of the mirror and pressed a hand over her growing stomach. She was nude, and water shimmered off her onto the cold bathroom floor. "I'm sorry," she whispered to her unborn child. "I'm sorry that you have to see me like this."

Scully stayed there for a little while longer. She felt the need to connect with her child and tell it she could do better, that she had been better before. When she felt she'd fully explained what she used to be like, she put on her bathrobe and went to her bedroom.

The bed was soft, and she curled up in the fetal position. She had one of Mulder's shirts in her hands. She allowed herself one item of Mulder's to sleep with each week. This particular shirt still smelled of him, but it couldn't comfort her tears.

Scully had never cried as a child. When she was hurt, she shrugged and jumped up to continue playing. At sad movies she always watched with the detachment a doctor learns to nourish. Everything in her life seemed to have a detachment. Until Mulder. The one thing she'd grown an attachment to had left her there alone, and she had no idea how to deal with this empty aching.

The baby helped a little. She felt guilty because it couldn't completely take away her pain. She felt guilty because if it came down to it, she'd take Mulder coming home over her child. How could she have a child when Mulder wouldn't be there to help her raise it? Scully placed a comforting hand over her stomach again, trying to let her child know that despite this, she still loved it.

Scully's eyes fluttered closed, and she held the shirt up to her nose. She inhaled the scent and took strength from something so stupid as Mulder's cologne. She shifted into a comfortable position, wiped her cheeks of tears with the back of her hand, and let her conscious mind drift off into dreams.

* * * * *

Pain. There was pain. Sometimes that was all there was. Other times he could feel other things.

Now was one of those times. The pain was not completely absent. He didn't think he could ever rid himself of the pain. But he was left in solace. There were no needles, no machines. There were only healing wounds until the next time. Now he could rest. He could sleep and let his body heal.

He used to be difficult. He used to purposefully keep himself from sleeping. It wasn't hard with his history of insomnia. He wouldn't sleep, and his body would take days, sometimes weeks, to heal itself.

His strength was gone, and he couldn't fight anymore. He let his eyes fall shut whenever he could. Any moment when he could escape this hell was a moment too short.

No more thinking. Sleep now.

* * * * *

Scully was in a room she'd never seen before. There was a white operating table in the center of the room and all different kinds of machines surrounding it. Even with her medical background she didn't recognize many of the contraptions.

There was a body under a white sheet, and her feet led her towards it. She had seen Fox Mulder in this position too many times to not recognize his form under a white sheet. She reached the side of the table and looked down into his face. "Mulder? Mulder, are you awake?"

Mulder's eyes snapped open. They were filled with such pain that she felt it hit her hard in her soul. "Scully?" he croaked.

"Oh god. Mulder!" She half-collapsed on his body, burying her face in his shoulder.

Mulder let out a small cry. "Ow. It hurts."

Scully straightened again and went into her Doctor Scully mode. "Where, Mulder?"

"Everywhere." Mulder put his hands on the side of the table and tried to push himself up to a sitting position. He groaned in pain, and Scully moved to help him. He brushed her off and managed to do it on his own. His lungs heaved slightly as if he had just gone on a run. "It doesn't matter right now. I just want to talk to you. I want to be with you. I want you to stay until they come back."

"Who are they, Mulder?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Are you okay? Are you dying? Are you safe?"

Mulder smiled slightly. "Is this panic I sense in the Ice Queen's voice?"

"I need to know, Mulder." She took one of his hands and kissed the back of it. "Even if this isn't real, I want to know."

"I'm as dandy as candy, Scully. Besides the fact that I have little green men playing with scissors a little too close to my chest. I'm not dying. Not all victims die, and I'm too important for them to kill."

"Or maybe you're too important for them to let live."

"I don't think so," Mulder said. "I can feel her here. She has a connection to this place, and she'll protect me. So there's your third question. Yes, I'm safe."

Scully squeezed his hand. "I haven't dreamed about you once since you left. I-I needed this."

Mulder frowned. "Scully . . . you're aware that you're dreaming?"

Scully looked taken aback. "Well . . . yes."

"Have you ever had that happen in a dream before?"

"I-I don't think so." She stared at him in shock as what he was implying registered. "No. This isn't really happening, Mulder."

"Scully, how did you dream this room? How could you dream me with pain from wounds you don't know I have?" He smirked a little. "I kind of hoped that if you dreamed about me I'd be in a lot less pain and we'd be a lot closer."

Scully scowled. "Even in my dreams you're trying to convince me of the paranormal."

"Have you ever heard of astral projection?"

"Of course, I have!" Scully's patience was snapping.

"What were you doing before you fell asleep?"

"I was . . ." Scully didn't want to admit that she had been clutching his shirt, but if she denied him the information then that meant that on some level she believed that he was really Mulder instead of a character from her dream. "I was holding a shirt of yours in my hands and crying. I told the baby that I didn't used to be like this. And I wished that you were there."

"The baby?" Mulder arched an eyebrow. "Exactly how long have I been gone, Agent Scully?"

"I'm pregnant, Mulder. I don't know how . . . but I am."

Mulder's eyes grew wide. He lifted a hand to touch his forehead. "I was just kidding. I . . ." He looked down at her stomach and reached his hand out to feel the rounded bump. "You really are pregnant." His eyes pained and he closed them. "Tell me you're real, Scully. Tell me you're not just a figment of my or their imagination."

"How can I do that when I'm not sure you're a figment of mine?" she asked softly. She buried a hand in his hair and rubbed his scalp tenderly. "I need you, Mulder. No one knows . . . but I'm barely making it by. I never realized how much you'd come to mean to me." Her voice faltered; she felt tears in her eyes.

Mulder reached a hand around her waist and pulled her close, resting his head on her chest. "Are you supposed to be able to touch with astral projection?" His voice broke slightly. Scully knew he wanted this to be real. She wanted that as well. "I can feel you. You're real, Scully."

"Maybe," she whispered. "Mulder, I need to tell you something."

Mulder pulled away and looked up at her wary eyes. "What? It is . . . mine, right?" he asked, worried.

"Mulder, I've been devoted to you for years, all of our partnership. It's yours." She smiled. "A few years ago you told me that you loved me. And my response-"

"I believe it was, 'oh boy,'" Mulder interjected.

She gave him a look. "My response was inaccurate. I thought you were drugged at the time, and maybe you were. But that doesn't matter now. I love you, Mulder. I haven't said the words yet, but I know that you know."

"I suspected." He gave her a crooked smile. "Now are you going to kiss me or what?"

Scully leaned down and kissed him. She brushed his lips tentatively; she didn't want to hurt him. One of his hands landed at the back of her skull and pulled her closer. She opened her mouth when she felt his tongue trying to get through. It was the most soul-searing kiss she'd ever had, even from him who did everything so passionately.

The sound of distant footsteps entered her psyche, and she and Mulder broke away simultaneously. His eyes held fear in them. "Go, Scully. Please."

"I don't know how!"

"If this is your dream, then you can do whatever the hell you want."

"Do you really believe this is a dream?"

Mulder locked eyes with her. "No."

"Neither do I," she said softly. She rested her forehead against his. "Please, God, let me come back." Then she concentrated on her room back home. She concentrated on her bed and the feel of his shirt in her hands.

When she opened her eyes she was there. Her lungs heaved. Had it really happened? She jumped off the bed and went to the mirror. She studied her appearance, looking for something to give her away. One finger trailed to her lips, and she gently touched them. They were swollen as if she'd just been good and kissed.

Scully's reaction even surprised her. She laughed like she hadn't laughed since she was a little girl. Then the laughter became tears, and she didn't know what exactly she was feeling. She just hoped she could see Mulder again.


End file.
